When Ethan finished, the room fell into heavy silence. Grace, though stunned, showed a hint of understanding. Dorothea's face had gone rigid, her lips pressed together, and Zachary stood motionless, saying nothing.
Then, without warning, Donovan slammed his fist into Ethan's face.
The blow came so suddenly and so hard that Ethan, older and slower, staggered back several steps before collapsing to the floor.
The sight left everyone else reeling in alarm, their faces drained of color.
But Donovan's fury didn't stop there. Consumed by rage, he lunged forward and kicked Ethan—once, twice—before Zachary and Adrian rushed in to pull him away.
Dorothea had never witnessed anything like it. Her face drained of color as she stood trembling, torn between rushing to Ethan's aid or calming Donovan before he lost control completely.
Grace was livid. "He's your brother! Look at what you've done to him! Are you even human? Were you trying to kill him?"
"Enough, Don! Calm down!" Dorothea cried. "Ethan just told you Giselle is alive. That should make you happy, not furious. You should be thanking him, not attacking him. Stop this right now!"
"So don't blame Ethan. He did the right thing. Sending her away, letting you believe she died, was the only way to free you. Otherwise, she'd have trapped you for life, and by the time you realized it, it would've been too late—"
"Shut up!" Donovan's roar tore through the room, his voice raw, his throat burning. He would have struck Grace if not for the people restraining him.
In the chaos, Zachary managed to find his composure. "Enough! All of you!" he shouted.
"Dad, you said Giselle's alive. Where in Cambria exactly is she? Tell us clearly. This isn't the time to argue. We need to bring her back first!"

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